Not my fault this time

In all seriousness, I don’t strictly photograph bugs, and I’m more than happy to do some mammals and cute critters, but I haven’t been coming across many recently. I’ll dig through older slides for something furry pretty soon, I promise.


But even when I tackle the “cuter” bugs, the bare truth is, they’re not always cute. The insects known most often here as “ladybugs” (or “ladybirds” in Canada and the UK) are, as you may already have heard, not “bugs.” The distinction is important to entomologists but sometimes annoying to everyone else, who find that the only term that really applies to the vast range of crawly animals is “arthropods,” and that really doesn’t cut it. Even “insects” doesn’t apply to arachnids and such. Anyway, just recently I managed to photograph all stages of the lady beetle class of icks, the family of Coccinellidae. The specimen in my opening image at top is probably a spotless lady beetle (Cycloneda sanguinea,) but I cannot guarantee the identification of the remaining images, despite all of them being taken within a half meter. Several very similar species may share the same space, and even variations within the same species can make identification somewhat questionable. Rather than imply anything misleading, I’m simply going with the only detail I’m sure of, which is the family.

It started with finding the eggs on a dog fennel plant (Eupatorium capillifolium) in the yard. I had no idea what they were. I tried to keep an eye on them, but they still hatched while I wasn’t available, producing not the caterpillars that I expected, but rather nasty-looking spiky black larva that looked like something from The Road Warrior. These spent a few days clustered about the empty egg cases, which you may note have lost all of their color. Like the chrysalises of the monarch butterfly, the eggshells were actually clear; the color was provided by the developing occupants, which very likely hatched in that color but turned black as their exoskeletons dried and hardened – I have seen the same with several other species of arthropod, such as assassin bugs.


After a few days the larvae spread out and could be found in numerous locations on the plant, starting to develop orange spots on their abdomens. Their body length as of this image was somewhere in the range of 4-6mm, so the aphid that it has seized as food was apparent to me, in the viewfinder, only as a green dot. Bear in mind that this was probably twice the length it had been when newly hatched, so I’m guessing this isn’t the first aphid to fall under its mighty mouthparts. And with the development of the coloration, I now recognized this as a species I’d seen before, yet never tried to identify. A larger version had been spotted on the same plant only a few days earlier.

That larger version was what finally clued me in to what species I was seeing develop. In those same few days, it had gone from a fatter version of the feeding larva above to this, which is the pupa form (the head is at top.) Now, the adult coloration and shape has started to develop, and a quick web search on the lady beetle life cycle confirmed my suspicions. The pupa here will soon molt its exoskeleton and produce the wings and elytra (wing shells) that we’re all familiar with. In fact, just a day after this image, the same pupa has started to produce spots. I’m hoping to have better luck catching the emergence of the adult, but we’ll see what happens.

Some trivia. Most flying arthropods demonstrate the presence of two pairs of wings, or at least the common ancestry of such. Dragonflies are among those that still possess both pairs, while many other flying insects have only vestigial remnants, resembling tiny clubs, that may act as counterbalances. For beetles, however, the front pair of wings evolved into hard shells that both protect the folded hind wings, which still provide flight, and also produce useful coloration.

The useful coloration in this case is the vibrant and contrasty pattern that tells predators to keep away. I’ve mentioned aposematic coloring before, and for lady beetles, it’s connected with a nasty taste, from a chemical apparently exuded from their knees – yeah, that’s on my shooting list. Such insects not only fail to achieve camouflage, they’re actually about as far from it as they can be short of shooting off fireworks; the theory maintains that this distinctiveness makes them more memorable to species that tried to pop one down and almost tossed their cookies, just like anyone that’s tried Vegemite is quite wary of greasy brown spreads now.

I leave you with one last image, another view of the feeding larva above. You can see that the poor defenseless aphid has nevertheless scored a victory of sorts; I admit to some satisfaction at the thought, faced with being eaten, of at least shitting on my nemesis’ head. And of course it’s much better if pics of it get posted online.

Seneca Falls, we have a problem

All right, I admit that title might be a little confusing, since not too many people are familiar with the hamlet of Seneca Falls, New York, but on top of it being only 12 km from where I grew up (which is well worth remembering,) it was the location of the first Convention on Women’s Rights in 1848. We’ve come a long way since then – unfortunately, the direction has become somewhat questionable. While there is a lot of support for feminism being closely aligned with skepticism, enough that many people believe they are sisters, the grim reality is that their relation is superficial at best, and almost diametrically opposed at times. And the fact that pointing this out is sufficient to engender long diatribes in response is actually support of it by itself, but let’s go into it a bit deeper than that. This is long, so it continues after the break.

[Sniff] They grow up so fast!


You might remember the above image from a post earlier this year. It came from April, when several newly-hatched praying mantises, probably Chinese mantises (Tenodera aridifolia sinensis) were found to be inhabiting the azalea bushes that flanked our porch. I was, of course, delighted, because interesting subjects that are easy to find and convenient are exactly the reason I want to live somewhere on a small exotic south Pacific island someday. One with a fast internet connection. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

Anyway, that pic, while I’m quite proud of it, doesn’t show scale very well, which you can determine better from this one:


Over the weeks, I watched the mantises grow, and began being able to tell them apart. They switched places on the two bushes a couple of times, and gradually reduced in number. Some seemed to try out the nearby pampas grass, which has always been a popular resort, but two remained, one outpacing the other in growth. They each claimed territory of one of the bushes, which are about 2 meters apart. Then the larger (I’m fairly certain a female) switched bushes again, forcing the smaller to vacate – I found the smaller one in a couple of different places over the next few days, then that one vanished.

Most of the sightings, after several weeks, took place at night; I suspect the heat that we began reaching in the summer months had a lot to do with this. I might go for two weeks or so without sighting any, thinking that they’d moved on or become prey to something else, and then spot their re-emergence one night. The big female has been that way – as soon as I decided I needed to make this post, which required a certain photo, she disappeared for several days. I’m guessing she was molting, which they tended to do well inside the bush away from my eager camera.

So a few minutes ago (it’s 10:30 pm as I type this,) she reappeared, and I wasted no time in taking this shot, strictly for comparison. The Girlfriend, who sees them only about 10% of the times that I do, is always surprised to see how they’ve grown, but these images display it more distinctly I think.

I haven’t done a recent count, but I’m fairly certain I have a few hundred mantis images just from this year alone, from the convenient bushes, several other plants in the yard, and a few from the botanical garden. You have actually been spared from most, because I’m trying to mix up the posts and subjects a bit ;-)

If my guess is right, fairly soon this one’s abdomen will swell significantly and she’ll find a place for her egg sac, which will overwinter and hatch out in the spring. I found the one that she emerged from a few weeks after her hatching, not very deep in the azalea bush (and far too close to the line I’d pruned them back to in the winter,) so I’ll be checking carefully to try and find hers before next spring.

Meanwhile, on a set of flowers about 8 meters away, a much smaller one has been making itself at home, and serving as yet another photo subject. If you want to see some interesting detail, take a look here (you may have to click on it when it loads to see it at full resolution,) and realize that the eyes measure only 4.5mm across the outside – yes, I measured them.

Just a bit of trivia

The passing of Neil Armstrong the other day brought a flurry of articles and post featuring the same image, one that’s been featured literally uncountable times since 1969. You know the one that I mean…

Courtesy NASA
Those that are really into the space programs, especially the Apollos, know that this is usually misrepresented. This is not the first footprint on the moon. No, it’s not the first bootprint either (but you’re quick to catch that trick.) Nor is it even Armstrong’s. Armstrong’s first step was at the base of the ladder, and was obscured quickly by all the things that he and Buzz Aldrin were doing. As easy as it might be for us to step around a particular print at the base of a ladder to preserve that ‘first step,’ in the bulky and inflexible Extravehicular Mobility Units (what we tend to refer to as “spacesuits”,) it was hard enough for the lunar astronauts to even see where they were stepping, and not worth the extra effort.

The iconic print came from Aldrin, and it isn’t even a step per se. Aldrin purposefully found a bare spot and pressed his boot into it, then stepped back and photographed it to demonstrate what the surface was truly like. And that’s kind of interesting in itself. The rock of the lunar surface has been subjected to wide variations of temperature, a few hundred degrees Celsius between day and night, for millions of years, and the drastic expansion and contraction cracked, then pulverized the surface into dust – the technical term is regolith if you enjoy annoying your friends. And no, dust is not simply a euphemism; while many people (including the vapor-brained moon hoaxers) believe the surface is like sand or soil, it’s much finer than that, likened to the consistency of cocoa powder. That image demonstrates it nicely – nothing coarser would have preserved that print so distinctly.

And preserved it may be. With no atmosphere, no wind, no moisture, and nothing at all to disturb it, it may remain that way for quite a long time. It probably still looks exactly like that, despite being 43 years old, and may well continue for thousands of years – eventually, it will crumble under the slow shifting caused by the temperature, and perhaps by micrometeorite strikes. The typical meteors that we see on earth are often no larger than a grain of sand (just moving really damn fast,) and the moon has no atmosphere to slow or annihilate them, so there’s an infinitesimal chance that the print will get pocked by one over any given period of time. That is, of course, if it was not later obscured by other tracks after the photo was taken.

Courtesy NASA
The idea that the surface is like sand comes from the video footage of the astronauts (and later the rover) moving around on the surface. The dust they stir falls quickly, like it’s heavy, but that’s atmospherocentric bigotry; there’s no air to waft the dust around, so it simply drops. But examining some of the other images, or reading the various accounts, shows that the dust was actually a pain in the ass, getting into everything.

As the first lunar landings were planned, there was no small speculation that the surface would swallow the probes since the depth of the dust was unknown. But just like you don’t sink into the sand at the beach because it compresses and packs, the dust wasn’t the quicksand-like hazard that some scientists speculated was possible. Even the blast of the descending Lunar Excursion Module didn’t blow up much of it, but that was partially because it wasn’t a blast – the LEM had slowed significantly at higher altitudes, and (at 1/6 earth gravity anyway) almost drifted down to the surface, slower than parachutists on earth.

To photographers, that bootprint image at top says something else, too. Notice that it spans the entire light range, pure black in the shadows and pure white in the highlights. While a small portion of this may be due to the compressed dynamic range of computer displays, and might be a bit better on the original negative, most of it is due to the light conditions – this isn’t the result of crappy film. Everything looks lit by a spotlight because there’s no atmosphere to scatter and bounce light around, and the only things reflecting light at a different angle than direct sunlight are the low hills of the lunar landscape, and any nearby introduced stuff like equipment and pressure suits. Since regolith is actually mid-toned, pretty close to 18% grey, this isn’t even evidence of an exposure problem – the range of light levels is simply far wider than film can capture.

By the way, if you want to see more images of any part of our space program, they’re readily available online, and considered public domain since NASA is a government agency – they even provide very high resolution versions. I don’t use the word “hero” lightly, since I think it should denote activities of remarkable altruism and it’s hard for me to consider the space program that way, but I have a tremendous amount of respect (the real meaning of that word) for everyone involved who contributed to these accomplishments.

And besides, it was Buzz who socked Bart Sibrel in the puss…

Friends in low places


So, here’s the story: I was out just a few minutes ago chasing a crab spider, because the lack of ambient light meant I could observe its actions without it being spooked by my looming presence. A macro flashlight mounted on the camera allowed me to see what was going on, focus decently, and so on – the spider would only see the rather erratic sun bouncing around.

The light, however, attracted a couple of moths, which circled it in a blundering and irritating manner. When one actually ran into the flower as I was locking focus, scaring the crab spider into hiding, I backed off and observed it for a minute to see if it would settle somewhere. The light was now aimed mostly downwards, and since I was sitting cross-legged on the ground, this meant I was illuminating the grass from 20cm away.

At one point the moth crashed into the grass momentarily and a wolf spider appeared, making a decent attempt to snag the moth and moving much faster and more accurately than I would have suspected. I kept watching. It only took another five seconds.

The next time the moth bumbled into the grass, it never rose again; the spider moved with lightning speed and nailed it where it had touched down. Keep in mind that the moth was moving as erratically as they ever do, and was in and out of the light’s beam constantly. I’m so used to arthropods that have limited distance vision that I forget about the ones that don’t, so the utter efficiency of this capture was stunning to behold.

I know, not only did I do even more pink pics, I did more closeups of spiders too – but then again, everyone bothered by those stopped coming back long ago. So when I say this all took place not 10cm from my leg, and I think the wolf spider had actually run across my calf two minutes earlier, I’m not creeping anyone out. Right?

One of these days, I’m going to have to branch into video…

That time of year


I had started this post a little earlier, and then realized that it was referring back to a post from almost exactly a year ago, so I delayed it to make it line up. Humans do stupid things like that ;-)

Once again this year, the inchworm stage of the wavy-lined emerald moth (Synchlora aerata) has made its appearance on the flowers in the yard, and when I say “appearance,” I mean “trying hard not to.” This species camouflages itself with flower petals plucked from its host plant, making it able to sit distinctly in the open and munch on the flowers without attracting attention. The key to spotting them, aside from peering very closely at every flower that one comes across, is that they often use the outer petals for their camo, so the nice geometry of rim petal color and interior reproductive organs is marred – there are petals ‘growing’ from the center of the bloom. Also, not surprisingly, the plucked fragments don’t last very long and wilt, and may display a noticeable difference between the fresh healthy flower bloom and the browning cover of the inchworm. Since this species of flower has an exceptionally brief period in bloom, this difference may last only a day or so before the host looks much like the camouflaged larva.

The inchworm also has to work fast, since it’s in competition with the pollinators, and from appearances it has to obtain its nutrition before the various local hymenoptera and lepidoptera arrive. I’ve watched a miniscule Augochlorella aurata, a coppery green bee, servicing the same bloom while the inchworm twitched spastically to try and chase it off.


Here’s a closer look at the details – you can ever make out the eyes right near the lower tip of the head, about the same size as a grain of pollen. The wonderfully carunculated appearance of their natural exoskeleton would seem to be camouflage enough, and at this magnification (the entire worm is perhaps a centimeter in length) bears a resemblance to the jagged ambush bugs I was photographing last year (I’ve spotted almost none this year.)


Like the ambush bugs, once the bloom is wilting the inchworm moves to the underside, and unlike many other inchworms, this species seems to spend most of its time as motionless as possible, relying on blending in. The rearmost sets of limbs are the primary supports, remaining locked in place until the inchworm absolutely has to move, and otherwise supporting all of the larva’s weight in what would be a serious feat of strength and leverage for us. Notice how even the forelegs are tucked in tightly, reducing the vulnerability of the fragile limbs.


On the same photo outing as the posts here and here, I spotted another, and placed it onto my palm for more detailed closeups. Since it had fewer decorations I was able to illustrate both the differences in the leg sets and the spiky protuberances on its back, to which the camouflage is affixed. Despite my observations, I have never seen any of these actually applying its ‘makeup,’ so that’s something still on my shooting list. You have of course noticed the difference in base coloration, though I’m fairly certain these are the same species since it appears to be the only larva that does this. Whether the coloration can be changed at will, or appears after a new molt, is something I have not determined yet. I guess I might have to try transplanting one between flower species and seeing what happens, though when I tried that with one of the ambush bugs, it quickly migrated back to the flower I’d found it on.

And, of course, I would like to catch one in the process of spinning its cocoon, something that I haven’t accomplished for any species yet. Despite the easy access, I will admit to a certain reluctance to sitting in the yard for hours on end in temperatures exceeding 35° C (95° F). Yeah, so much for dedicated nature photographers, but if you really want to see it, I can be commissioned for an appropriate fee ;-).

Say it isn’t so!

Courtesy, once again, of Why Evolution Is True, comes another article in the New York Times, this one about a bible-belt pastor that left religion behind. Despite the fact that the author, like many journalists, has only a superficial understanding of what he’s writing about (and suffers from the common delusion that the chronological listing of particulars is something to be destroyed at all costs,) the article still communicates the significant repercussions of announcing one’s lack of faith in an area dominated by christians. Jerry DeWitt, in a rapid turn of events, lost his job, his wife, and all of his friends when he let it be known that he was a secular humanist, and began receiving nasty little messages on his voicemail. This comes as no surprise to anyone the least familiar with reactions to secularism; christians seem to like the title of being good, but the practice is a bridge too far (and already crumbling into ashes.)

More notable, however, are the various comments following that article. There is a distinct dearth of christians recognizing the inherent assholery of their brethren; instead, we have the hackneyed ‘No True Scotsman’ fallacy popping up, which curiously seems to only get pointed out to atheists – the number of times I have seen this wielded against the untrue christians I can count on the fingers of two fingers. And, we get to see the blithe avoidance of the key points of the article, to instead hear someone wax pompously about their own special status as the recipient of god’s touch. Funny, even though they directly say this is god’s doing, they seem to always express this as if it’s the fault of the untouched. This is despite the fact that DeWitt has better “touched” cred than anyone I’ve ever spoken to, as recounted right there in the article.

The writer, perhaps in a sense of balance, does point out that not everyone has been nasty to DeWitt, and I’ll be perfectly fair and say that yes, there is some credit to be given over this. But you tell me: how well does someone being nice to DeWitt stack up against veiled death threats, the loss of his job, his wife leaving him, and his house being foreclosed on? Especially when it was demonstrated in front of a reporter from a major newspaper? Do you get the same impression that I do, of someone who thinks their pleasant ‘public face’ disguises their shitty attitude?

Now, funny, I thought jesus had a few things to say about this all, and that he was one of the prime motivators in christianity, but it seems like that’s only when it’s convenient. I would have thought that someone dropping faith would be considered a challenge, a signal to really pour on the positive aspects and, if nothing else, the charm – not a cue to become a petulant brat. Even the lamest of corporations, faced with drooping sales, isn’t stupid enough to insult and ostracize their customers, but looks instead for ways to improve their product, or at least put on the pretense of such.

Interestingly, the primary message, and indeed the direct advice given by another pastor and echoed by the writer, is, “keep your mouth shut.” Yeah, the whole thing’s fucked up, but just lie, to everyone else as well as yourself, because it’s easier that way. Which is a rather damning commentary on the childishness and mob mentality of our society anymore, and the coward’s way out. “For god’s sake, don’t even try changing those assholes for the better! Leave that to the… oh, yeah. That was supposed to be our whole purpose as christians, wasn’t it?”

But that really isn’t the purpose, as has been demonstrated countless times over the centuries. The purpose is only to wield a specialized status, to bear a title that requires no accomplishment and no responsibility, but allows one to dictate to others at will without having to demonstrate any real value from it. You will notice that the pastor himself, tasked with guiding others towards proper behavior, instead just makes excuses for them.

The ones who are spewing the nasty messages and making all the effort to ostracize that horrible atheist aren’t really doing anything good, are they? Most of it is undoubtedly just insecurity, and likely a little resentment from seeing someone leave the club. Some of it is probably fostered by the constant demonizing of atheism and secularism, even admitted within the article when it is pointed out that some believe DeWitt is a satanist (wonder where they got that idea?) Regardless, none of it is even remotely related to positive action, and few of those engaged in such seem to have any inkling whatsoever of this. If there is one message that christianity is supposed to promote, it’s, “be good.” So just how pathetic is it that it cannot even get this straight? No, there only seems to be the belief that if you don a little cross, you have magically pronounced your behavior to be acceptable. The omniscient god they like to blather about seems remarkably easy to fool.

Now comes a little perspective. Since the argument that outspoken atheists are being mean is a ridiculously common one, I feel obligated to point out the hypocrisy here. But more importantly, I want to show some important distinctions. I have nothing against being mean, actually – I’m all for it, provided it’s applied in a useful manner. Our societies are built upon the input of everyone, and what they consider acceptable or not. Being mean is a way of announcing the level of disagreement you have with a particular standpoint. I’m sure that my beating the shit out of a child rapist is unlikely to garner much negativity, despite how mean it really is.

However, the perspective and circumstances, the reasoning behind, are crucial. Yes, I’m mean towards the excesses of religion, and even the idea behind it – they demonstrate both a class consciousness and privilege that promotes no advance to society or behavior, and an idea that is remarkably lame and superstitious in itself. Not only do I find it necessary to demonstrate that critical thought is lacking, the message must also fight against the propensity of humans to follow one another around like unthinking sheep. A truly ridiculous number of things in our culture revolve around the idea that religion=good, despite the constant barrage of evidence that this equation fails more often than it succeeds. I post about these subjects specifically to highlight how often people cannot see the obvious.

This is different, radically so, from being mean in order to maintain one’s own privileged position, or because someone is insecure and incapable of improving themselves. Our society, and in fact all interactions among every cooperative species, revolves around others; our status and our survival depend on them. This even extends to what religion hopes to accomplish (or professes to attempting anyway.) Yet, there is a remarkable tendency to believe that, in the process of disrespecting others, the religious should be receiving respect back from them. Or, failing that, then the hopes that their numbers hold out so the in-group of religious folk can still maintain an advantage through might.

This has nothing to do with ‘good.’ And it’s not like being good requires some special guidance, training, or insight anyway. It’s about as uncomplicated as any decision we could ever make.

In fact secular humanism, which is the label that DeWitt applied to himself that triggered this entire mudslide, is a standpoint that specifically applies itself to doing good, to building a stronger society. That’s exactly what so many christians claim to be after themselves, isn’t it? Ah, but the rub is that it does so by dumping the reliance on privilege and labels, and completely trashes the concept that any holy book automatically counts as good. The only people who have anything to fear are the ones who lose all of the status provided by such privilege, and have no good deeds to display in its place.

Awful goddamn lot of them, isn’t there?

I’m tasty


I just had to upload this one, partially to break up two posts that are far too similar. But this is me doing my “Snow White” thing while setting up some shots the other day. A butterfly (I can’t be bothered to determine the species) alighted on my left bicep and stayed there for no small amount of time, tapping its way down my arm with its proboscis. While I suspect it was only in search of the salt from my sweat, there’s always the possibility that it was an alien butterfly and I was being probed. Come to think of it, I can’t remember everything I did that day. I probably should check for implants…

Given the proximity and the length of the macro lens, I couldn’t actually take this with the camera held to my eye, since the butterfly was too close. Instead, I tried for the likely most accurate settings and shot blind, aimed crossways with my right hand. I have a lot of frames that were misses, but considering the short depth of field of macro work, this actually ain’t too bad.

This also demonstrates one of the traits you often have to work around with macro. This was taken in bright sunlight with a normal background, but at 1/200 second, f22, ISO 100. Those settings were necessary to stop any camera shake, induce the highest depth of field, and maintain the best quality respectively, but the strobe was also set for the short working distance. The settings let in too little ambient light to register the background at all, so the only illumination is from the strobe. Had it been powerful enough to illuminate the background, the butterfly would have been burned out to pure white. This is where a second strobe, or even a studio light, comes in, but that takes no small amount of arranging itself.

I actually leaned closer to the shamrock plants on the porch for a nicer background, but never got framing nailed before my friend decided the shamrock flowers looked tastier than my arm…

Too smart to be intelligent

You know, I try to let philosophy prove its worth to me. I constantly recognize that, if so many people believe it’s useful, that maybe I’m the one that’s missing something. I don’t dismiss the contemporary philosophers without hearing what they have to say. Yet every time, this proves to be almost totally wasted effort. This latest example has demonstrated that philosophy relies on terms and ideas that really aren’t comprehended at all.

Richard Polt, who probably gets paid quite a lot for this, offered his take on a concept called reductionism in an opinion piece for the New York Times, Anything But Human. Reductionism, at least as applied in this circumstance, is the idea that humans are no more complex than the cells that make up our bodies, and if we understand the cells and their relations to each other, we understand how our minds work. The opposite idea of this is dualism (if you prefer, Cartesian Dualism,) which proposes that the mind is a separate function – consciousness, soul, transcendence, whatever – something more than just the cell interactions of the physical body. I need to keep something clear right from the start: philosophers are not biologists, so they’re not beholden to demonstrate just where or how dualism might arise; their only ‘duty’ (if they even promote the idea, which many don’t) is to show that there seems to be some difference.

Unfortunately, Polt falls down on three separate levels. The first is, he never bothers to try and understand the biological processes that govern our thinking processes, he simply assumes there isn’t any. Second, he does not take the time to fathom the numerous concepts, like ‘virtue’ and ‘altruism,’ that he throws around casually. But third and unforgivably, he resorts to some crass and juvenile mangling of concepts like ‘information’ and even ‘analogy’ to try and besmirch the argument he opposes. A little tip for someone who really should know better and cannot apparently be bothered to refer to a dictionary for words with which he’s unfamiliar: “Analogous” means, “like,” or “similar.” It does not mean, “perfect match,” or “equal to.”

Let’s tear into his points, because hidden within are some really interesting and valid avenues of examination. On a section regarding behavior and evolutionary selection (within, he’s quoting E.O. Wilson from a separate article):

Selection also operates between individuals: “within groups selfish individuals beat altruistic individuals, but groups of altruists beat groups of selfish individuals. Or, risking oversimplification, individual selection promoted sin, while group selection promoted virtue.” Wilson is cautious here, but some “evolutionary ethicists” don’t hesitate to claim that all we need in order to understand human virtue is the right explanation — whatever it may be — of how altruistic behavior evolved.

This isn’t exactly true, and it’s not clear whether Polt simply doesn’t understand why these are examined or thought his argument sounded better this way. The goal is to try and determine how altruism evolved, since by its very nature it puts the organism (e.g, human predecessor) at risk. How does one pass on a genetic tendency to get oneself killed? But virtue is perfectly understood by biologists, since overall it’s beneficial to a cooperative, social species. No mystery here. There is research into how exactly this develops in the brain, and whether or not this can fail and result in things like psychopathy; there is even, I believe, research into how group dynamics evolved, separating cooperative species like wolves from individualistic ones like snakes. But understanding the usefulness of ‘virtue’ in the species that possess it isn’t any mystery.

I have no beef with entomology or evolution, but I refuse to admit that they teach me much about ethics. Consider the fact that human action ranges to the extremes. People can perform extraordinary acts of altruism, including kindness toward other species — or they can utterly fail to be altruistic, even toward their own children. So whatever tendencies we may have inherited leave ample room for variation; our choices will determine which end of the spectrum we approach. This is where ethical discourse comes in — not in explaining how we’re “built,” but in deliberating on our own future acts.

The problem with this is, many of the decisions that we make are not conscious, deliberate acts, but reactions, emotional and/or subconscious. There is a basic reward-and-punishment system internally, what we typically call ’emotions,’ that help guide us towards what we consider the best course of action. Philosophical pondering of, for instance, a selfish act will lead nowhere until one understands why someone acts that way – and even that they virtually never consider it selfish, but perhaps self-protective instead. Self-preservation, and even fairness, are almost certainly evolved traits; one keeps you alive, and the other lets you function much better in a group. Group beats individual in any competition, right? Is this so hard?

On occasion, a ‘selfish’ act not only doesn’t harm a group, it may actually help strengthen it. If I’m good at wielding flint weapons, I may guard them possessively and not give them away, which is better for my tribe because they remain in the possession of the one who uses them more efficiently. Contrived, perhaps, but it’s a simple demonstration of how applying labels like ‘selfish’ cannot be done superficially. The concepts that we casually refer to have to be defined very distinctly when using them in biological or scientific manners. You cannot apply philosophical abstracts to biological functions any more than you can apply them to auto mechanics.

Most, though not all, moral codes advise me to cultivate altruism. But since the human race has evolved to be capable of a wide range of both selfish and altruistic behavior, there is no reason to say that altruism is superior to selfishness in any biological sense.

This is simply being fatuous. Because humans do not demonstrate altruism constantly, then it has no use? Seriously?

How much thought does it take to realize that a wholly altruistic society, like a wholly peaceful nation, is easy pickings for anyone that is not? The balance of cooperation and protection (or self-preservation) is an important one – not to mention that cooperation is in many cases an aspect of protection. Again, dealing with superficial terms prevents the understanding of the functions underlying it all.

Important lesson here. Do not define the concept by the word. Always remember what the word is intended to mean. For instance, in biological terms ‘altruism’ is the urge or tendency to put oneself at risk for the benefit of another – which is why the whole group/kin selection thing above comes up, since it provides useful function only on those levels, not on an individual one. ‘Selfish,’ however, is barely a biological term, since it is more of a value judgment from others than a specific function in an organism. Someone may say I’m selfish to demand more pay for a task, while I may believe my skills deserve that higher rate. There’s no right answer in such cases, but biologically, what comes into play is my own self-preservation and/or sense of fairness. However, if I begin to feel selfish myself for demanding that pay, then I have an internal influence towards not fighting for it, or negotiating more cooperatively. What triggers such feelings of guilt, however? Can this be studied biologically? Of course it can, and with ten times (at least) more functionality than philosophers arguing about it.

In fact, the very idea of an “ought” is foreign to evolutionary theory. It makes no sense for a biologist to say that some particular animal should be more cooperative, much less to claim that an entire species ought to aim for some degree of altruism.

Well, it’s a good thing I’ve never seen any biologist dumb enough to say any such thing, then. That’s two smacks in the arm for using a straw man. However, since we obviously possess altruism, at least to a certain degree, then it must have come from somewhere, and that’s what biologists try to puzzle out. You’d think a philosopher wouldn’t be so goddamn clueless about a discipline he’s trying to comment upon.

If we decide that we should neither “dissolve society” through extreme selfishness, as Wilson puts it, nor become “angelic robots” like ants, we are making an ethical judgment, not a biological one.

No shit. Seriously, does this chucklehead think biology has anything to do with dictating social structure? We have an interest in justice, fairness, altruism, and social structure because of our biological makeup – and yes, it is inexact and imperfect; nobody ever said otherwise. It is those imperfections that we wish to address with social structure, and ethical considerations and laws and all that; we realize we aren’t ideal, but want to be. What biology helps us to do is understand both the imperfections and the desire. I will draw an analogy since I suspect my readers can handle these better than Polt; the x-ray does not knit the broken bone, but it tells the doctor what she needs to know to set it. The biological understanding of our motivations and reactions helps us to understand what to do, consciously, to improve.

Curiously, it may even tell us that the improvements we seek aren’t really improvements at all, instead hampering us in other areas.

I prefer to conclude that ants are anything but human. They may feel pain and pleasure, which are the first glimmerings of purpose, but they’re nowhere near human (much less angelic) goodness. Whether we’re talking about ants, wolves, or naked mole rats, cooperative animal behavior is not human virtue. Any understanding of human good and evil has to deal with phenomena that biology ignores or tries to explain away — such as decency, self-respect, integrity, honor, loyalty or justice.

First off, I’ve never seen anyone remotely related to any biological field attempt to explain these away. That’s two more – Polt’s arm should be feeling pretty sore by now, but not half as bad as his conscience for this claptrap.

However, this is where the distinction I made initially between biologists and philosophers comes into play. Biologists, as part of the hard sciences that require decent explanations and evidence, actually have to explain the source of the dualism Polt is now trying to pass off here. Which is largely why they do not, because no such evidence exists. And we also return to the idea of defining our words.

What is ‘virtue?’ Define it without resorting to any other abstract term such as ‘good.’ Did you come up with something along the lines of, “Referring to actions or attitudes that are beneficial to others, or regarded highly in society”? Yeah, that’s really no different from the ant that helps raise the pupae, is it? Especially since, in order to be regarded highly in society, you still have to fit the first bit about benefit (unless you’re sexy, but that’s another biological drive entirely, and still fits under benefit when it results in healthy offspring.) In fact, every term that he throws out up there results in group benefit. Don’t use words without comprehending them, dude. We made these words up to explain the feelings that we have internally.

Now it’s time to really kick some dishonest ass:

Next they tell me that my brain and the ant’s brain are just wet computers.”Evolution equipped us … with a neural computer,” as Steven Pinker put it in “How the Mind Works.” “Human thought and behavior, no matter how subtle and flexible, could be the product of a very complicated program.”

and,

So are you and I essentially no different from the machines on which I’m writing this essay and you may be reading it?

Well, if by “essentially no different” you mean “radically different, relying on completely different methods of information storage and retrieval, and adapting to constant new input, and capable of internally monitoring benefit and detriment with functions to encourage the former and discourage the latter,” but I suspect most people do not define “essentially no different” that way, and I’m pretty certain Polt knows this, which is why I’m going to call him out on playing stupid fucking games at this point.

As I’m sure he knows if he actually read the book he’s quoting, the brain is made up of neurons with exceptionally simple functions, trading electrochemical microcharges in a network of connections. When I say, “sexy,” you think of whatever particular set of gender traits that appeal to you, that spark an interest in procreating (or at least going through the motions.) Those are connections, not only specific to your individual experiences, but influenced by your glands and the positive/negative feedback functions that helped create the connections in that manner – most people cheat and use the word “emotions” here. A very large percentage of what we consider “sexy” are traits that lead to healthier offspring, such as apparent health (clear skin, well-developed physical structure, etc.), waist-to-hip ratios for problem-free child-bearing, and even the factor of out-competing other spousal choices. These are evidence of internal structures that guide us towards survival. Dualists seem to want to believe that such biases in thinking come from someplace else, magically I suppose, without trying to recognize that these are no different from the bear that fattens up for winter. Moreover, it is frighteningly easy to alter our responses to such stimuli with, for instance, a big rock across the frontal lobes. We can get confused with too little sleep, and irritable when we’re feeling pain – of course this is all physical. The idea of dualism is the one that’s completely unsupported. But in order to realize this, we have to understand what, for instance, “happy” is, and not assign it some kind of special elevation above the very simple internal positive reinforcement that explains it in a perfectly functional and adequate way.

Today’s “artificial intelligence” is cleverly designed, but it’s no closer to real intelligence than the letter-writing automatons of the 18th century. None of these devices can think, because none of them can care; as far as we know there is no program, no matter how complicated, that can make the world matter to a machine.

Again, Polt seems to believe that philosophical pondering rates higher than the biological functions that we can demonstrate in very interesting ways, like a mild electrical current applied to specific centers of the brain that triggers certain feelings (thus demonstrating that emotions are indeed physically based.) In order to make the ‘world’ matter to a machine, all we have to do it generate a positive feedback function. There has been no reason to do this, because we design machines not to think, but to perform very specific tasks for us – there is no choice involved, so nothing is necessary to help promote any particular choice as better. However, it is childishly easy to tell one to pick the shortest route among many, which is a form of positive feedback. The key here is not that we need to have machines that feel emotions, but in understanding that emotions provoke successful outcomes from us. It is the end result, not the process, that matters, and when the computer program picks the shortest route, it has done so much more efficiently than we do when we apply our feelings over wasted resources or desiring more time at our destination.

One of the key differences between the machines we know now and a living organism is that, for life, the biological imperative must rule all other functions – life must survive, first and foremost. Survival can get complicated in world full of variables, so the imperative must include things like sexual attraction and selection, cooperative/tribal interactions and motivations, distinction of proper nutrition from dangerous substances, and the avoidance of damage. Is there any emotion that you feel that does not fit into one of these categories? I’m typing fast (well, for me) and not creating a definitive list, so perhaps you can come up with something. When if you do, see if it has to do with your survival.

You see, I might be impressed if philosophers tackled the concept of “fun,” most especially the kind that gives us thrills over dangerous actions, but then again, I have some suspicion that we engage in these for the release from tension, a kind of natural drug high that we produce. Or perhaps if they wondered about our drive to explore, solve puzzles, and such like that – yet I’m fairly certain that the rewards over finding better places to live, and over recognizing patterns and causes, are pretty damn good survival traits in themselves. But something as simple as caring? Please, dude, think for five seconds.

The temptation to reduce the human to the subhuman has been around for a long time.

Wrong way around. The temptation to elevate humans beyond the confines of basic physics has been around a long time, with absolutely no reason to ever believe in it. The assumption that some old concept has value simply because it’s old is one that far too many people fall for.

Curious to know why we elevate ourselves above the ‘merely physical,’ and higher than other animals? Because we compete with others of our species for breeding opportunities and resource access, so we have a drive to perform better, automatically. Ego is a function of competition. That such urges cannot differentiate between useful competition and pointless hubris is simply evidence that evolution produces functionality, not specific design. And is still ongoing – maybe in a few millennia we’ll have bred out the useless bits.

Aristotle resisted reductionism, too: in his “Politics,” he wrote that bees aren’t political in the human sense, because they can’t discuss what is good and just. People are constantly arguing about what would benefit their country most, or which arrangement is fairest, but bees don’t start Occupy the Hive movements or call for a flat tax on pollen. Certainly other animals have complex social arrangements; but they can’t envision alternative arrangements, consider them with at least the aspiration to impartiality, and provide reasons on their behalf.

They don’t waste time arguing over concepts that they have never bothered to fully define or comprehend, like reductionism and dualism, either. As a consequence, every last bee contributes more to the hive than this pile of philosophical meandering. While thinking is pretty cool, and our ability to envision abstract ideas has led to a huge distinction between humans and every other animal, this does not mean this is good. Good, biologically, is survival. When we can argue over whether we should protect our resources or limit our populations, we are not demonstrating that we’re a species that can survive the long run. Don’t get too fired up over your abstract concepts there, Polt.

So why have we been tempted for millenniums to explain humanity away?

This is crass manipulation, purposefully choosing words to try and evoke an emotional response to something that simply is not present. Nobody’s explaining humanity away. They’re pointing out that we have been mistaken in our impressions about what it is. We still have the same traits, functions, and goals. What anyone is doing when they question the concept of dualism is eradicating self deception. Doesn’t that sound a lot more positive? Yeah, thought so.

The culprit, I suggest, is our tendency to forget what Edmund Husserl called the “lifeworld” — the pre-scientific world of normal human experience, where science has its roots. In the lifeworld we are surrounded by valuable opportunities, good and bad choices, meaningful goals, and possibilities that we care about.

Yep, still have them with reductionism too. We just understand why now.

Never, ever trust anyone that bothers throwing out jargon to try and make their point. It almost always means they’re more intent on trying to impress you with how learnéd they are. It’s that ‘ego’ thing at work again. See what the biological explanation can provide? Is that what Polt means by a “meaningful goal”?

For instance, one factor that makes the computer-brain analogy seem so plausible is the ubiquitous talk of “information.” The word is often thrown around with total disregard for its roots in the lifeworld — specifically, the world of mid-20th-century communications. The seminal work in information theory is Claude Shannon’s 1948 paper “A Mathematical Theory of Communication,” which is mainly about the efficiency with which a certain sequence (say, a set of dots and dashes) can be transmitted and reproduced. There is no reference here to truth, awareness or understanding.

There is no reference here to butter pecan waffles, either. How fucking worthless is that?

What’s that you say? We weren’t discussing waffles? Silly me, I’ll try to stay on topic and not go off on wild unrelated tangents.

Why should we assume that thinking and perceiving are essentially information processing?

Because they are? What the hell else would you call them? But no, I’ll be fair, because there’s one extra little bit, which really is crucial, and that is, the weight/importance that any individual gives to the information during processing. This is also included within those connections that we make in our neurons; “pizza” is not simply “food,” but perhaps also, “tastes good” or “gives me gas.” Such connections are based on past experiences, or maybe in the manner in which we receive the info (screamed at us as we’re about to stick a fork in an electrical outlet, for example.) While computers rely on binary signals, this was simply because that was the way we found to make electrical gates perform complicated functions, and this is the reason why mathematics underlies all electronic information processing. The information that human brains process, provided through our input devices (our senses) and occasionally through trying new connections (thinking,) is transmitted differently but no less ‘information’ because of that.

None of this is especially hard to fathom, but what it takes is the honest effort to understand it in the first place, rather than disliking the entire idea and simply finding ways to argue against it. Because Polt does not understand biology when filtered through his lens of philosophy, he therefore assumes that it isn’t producing any answers. It is more than a bit presumptuous to judge a discipline while not bothering to comprehend it.

Most especially, however, not everything that someone came up with years ago is actually useful. Philosophy suffers from the idea that it is the highest level of cognitive function, and this is amply demonstrated every time some philosopher waxes enthusiastically about the human condition or some wondrous abstract. Yet, without the checks and balances of supporting evidence, without the process of demonstrating its accuracy, philosophy consists of only feeding ego in a vain (and vain) attempt to self-validate. Countless concepts held in high esteem for centuries have either been shown to be wildly misinterpreted (see “lifeworld” above) or completely without application (see damn near every first-year philosophical argument like Plato’s Cave, Zeno’s Paradox, and the Chinese Box.)

Always be ready to challenge assumptions, most especially your own. That’s the value of critical thinking, which is why I’ll stack it up against philosophy any day.

*     *     *     *     *

I wanted to highlight something that bears examining. I wrote above about influences “…that spark an interest in procreating (or at least going through the motions.)” The implication here is that we may engage in sex, not necessarily to produce babies, but to produce pleasurable sensations. And jungle noises.

This, all by itself, demonstrates the biological nature of our functions. The sex drive, and the orgasm, are a hell of a lot stronger than the desire to reproduce – so much so, in fact, that we have to exert the cognitive portions of our brains, the dualistic portion according to Polt, to counteract the biological imperative. This causes countless problems socially, most especially in the radical ways in which we rationalize our desires, and these probably make up half of those ethical cogitations he espouses.

I also want to point out that any designer of humans could have made the sex drive completely inert until after marriage, if it was so damn important to him.

Odd memories, part seven

So, today’s xkcd comments on hypochondria:
a_hypochrondiacs_nightmare

This stirred some memories of an age, long ago, when I would meet with several friends for a curious pastime. Bear with me a moment as I explain.

It all started with a humorous story taken from the early days of Usenet, about a poker game played by personifications of universal, um, properties? Absolutes? Whatever. Anyway, we happened to like the idea of characters ruled by their nature. Now, during this period we also engaged in an activity usually described as “story game,” which was born from exercises often assigned within college writing courses. Essentially, start a short story with a descriptive title and a first paragraph. Then, fold over the title so it cannot be seen and pass this along to the next person in line, who reads the first paragraph and then adds one of their own to continue the story. This person then conceals your original paragraph, so only theirs is showing, and sends this along to the following person. With only one paragraph to work from, each writer usually ends up inferring a lot. Eventually, it comes back to you, requiring you to decipher just what the bloody hell happened to your original premise, and to try and salvage it if you can. Played in a circle among several creative people, each having started their own story, it can be hilarious. And from time to time, when some of us get together again, it gets raised from the dead.

So, we tried a few rounds with Good, Evil, Order, Chaos, Truth, and the Void. One friend made Chaos his own and nurtured him (Chaos just seems right as a male) into a scene-stealer, like Serge from Beverly Hills Cop, while Void turned out to be very difficult to incorporate. In our very first attempt, one friend wrote the exchange that will remain in my head forever. The six personifications are riding in an elevator when it breaks down abruptly between floors. Order removes an address book from his pocket and says, “I have here the names and numbers of all of our appointments, so we can contact them and explain that we are going to be delayed.” Chaos immediately leaps across the elevator, grabbing the address book and eating it. Order, completely unperturbed, takes out a backup book and says, “Luckily, I have another.”

What does this have to do with the xkcd comic? Be still, I’m getting to that.

So then, we decided to branch out with different personifications, such as Hopeless Romance, Depression, and Blatantly Wrong. Another variation that we added was of random events, such as ‘getting a flat tire’ or the classic, ‘a team from Star Trek beams into the room.’ We would write several of these down on pieces of paper and put them into a hat, along with numerous personifications into another hat, then draw randomly for each round and have to write our story segments around those. With four of us, that meant every story would have (at least) four characters and four events in each, occasionally including the original storyline.

So, one particular round, I drew the event of ‘a character is struck by a meteorite, perhaps fatally,’ and the character of ‘Paranoia.’ Now do you see where the connection came in? I was smiling gleefully to myself as I incorporated what I considered the best combination of event and character that I’d ever seen, and I vividly recall writing that this was perhaps the one demise Paranoia had never predicted. But it gets better.

My turn came last in the reading roundup, but you can imagine my delight when the second story from the others featured (pause for vain dramatic effect) Paranoia getting struck by a meteorite. Yes, we put the characters and events back into the hats after each draw. I looked forward to introducing the exact same event in my own story when my turn came.

When the third story also had Paranoia getting struck by a meteorite, I was reduced to a basket case, laughing uncontrollably on the floor because I alone knew that it was coming yet again. I also knew I’d have to read my own story out loud, which made it even worse. The others were somewhat mystified that this coincidence had struck me so distinctly, but my turn was coming. And you have to admit, you cannot write a bad story about a character getting struck by a meteorite. You just can’t.

By the way, one of the stories from the subsequent session was about Paranoia’s funeral. If you think about it, you may realize that Paranoia cannot die, but even worse, Chaos was attending…

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